Collapse
by GLCorps2814
Summary: When a key member of Mysteries, Inc passes on, the group begins to fall apart.


Collapse: Chapter 1 of 2  
  
GL Corps 2814  
  
*Ok, quite obviously, "Scooby Doo" isn't mine. It and its characters are the property of Hanna Barbera, and considering what I'm about to do, it's probably for the better. Again, this is rated R for language, violence, drug use, and sexual situations. Really, Chapter 1 is only PG-13, but since the eventual Chapter 2 will be R, I figured I'd let you know now. If you dislike seeing treasured icons and beloved characters horribly distorted and warped, then do not continue. Any opinions would be greatly appreciated*  
  
It certainly was a spooky mine, there was no doubt about that. It was ill lit by a string of ancient, dingy bulbs, many of which had burnt out long ago. The entire place stank of stagnant water and coal dust. The support beams were rotting, swollen with water, and it didn't take much to crack one.  
  
Of course, these ancient struts had worked out to the advantage of the small band of wannabe detectives that made up Mysteries, Inc. The area and the mine had been haunted by the ghost of a Nazi Ninja, which they had decided to deal with. Velma had, expectedly, eventually divined that the "ghost" was, in fact, a man in a suit. So they had made one of their usual Rube Goldberg traps to capture him. As always, it had failed. Luckily, in the process of the failure, a freaked out Shaggy and Scooby had smashed into one of the beams, causing it to snap, and caused a minor cave-in. This had trapped the criminal, and the group waited for the Sheriff to arrive.  
  
"Come on, man, like, talk already." Shaggy said, crouching in front of the masked criminal. "We already know you're a person, why bother waiting until the cops get here?"  
  
"They always do, Shag." Freddie replied, from where he leaned against a wall, his arms crossed, the picture of confidence. "You should be used to it by now."  
  
" I'll get used to it once YOU stop saying "let's split up, gang."" Shaggy straightened up and threw Freddy a mildly annoyed glance. "It, like, never does any good. It just manages to get me and Scoob here separated from everyone else so we can have the pants scared off of us. Isn't that right, Scoob?"  
  
"Hrm?" The large, brown dog intoned. His eyes lazily moved towards Shaggy, and took a moment to focus on him. "Oh, ryeah."  
  
"Jinkies, Scooby, are you okay?" Velma whispered, glancing over at him.  
  
"Well I figure you'd have realized by now that they're never ghosts, so there's really nothing to be afraid of." Freddy continued.  
  
"Nothing to be afraid of?! Heck, I know they ain't ghosts, man, I just figure these guys must be, like, pretty annoyed with our busting up their racket. In the end, we tend to get in the way of some huge, money-making scams. We're just lucky we've yet to meet a crook who carries a gun!"  
  
"Come on, Shag. You don't have to worry about that."  
  
"I don't?"  
  
"Nah. You're such a big coward that if you ever saw a gun, you'd run away so fast we'd hear the sonic boom."  
  
He chuckled at his own joke, getting a nasty glare from Shaggy:  
  
"Hey, just because you're pretty doesn't give you the right to insult me!"  
  
"But you ARE a coward."  
  
"Hey, if not for our cowardice, we'd never catch these guys!" Shaggy stormed over to Freddy, actually sneering a bit. "Or have you never noticed that your ridiculous traps, like, NEVER ACTUALLY WORK?!"  
  
"Boys…" Daphne said, moving towards the two of them. Velma tore her attention away from the panting Scooby to watch the building altercation.  
  
"Only because YOU usually mess up your part of it!" Freddy's voice was rising in pitch, and his playful tone was growing more and more bitter. "Maybe if you and Scooby could stop thinking of FOOD for fifteen seconds, you would…"  
  
"Hey, you leave my pal OUTTA this!" He jammed a bony finger into Freddy's well-toned chest. "This is between you and me."  
  
"Boys!" Daphne said, now stepping between them and shoving them apart. "Stop this! The Sheriff will be here any moment, you want to put a good face on."  
  
There was a long, tense silence as the two men continued to glare between each other. Finally, Freddy looked over at Daphne and grinned.  
  
"Anything for you, Daph."  
  
"Of course," Shaggy hissed, "Or else she might not go down on…"  
  
"Shaggy!" Velma snapped, grabbing him by his shoulders and pulling him away. "What's gotten into you?!"  
  
"He…I mean…" Shaggy sighed, looking over to where Daphne was stroking both Fred's chest and ego. "Who appointed him leader, anyway?"  
  
"His millions of dollars?" Velma shrugged. "Look, Shag, we wouldn't be able to bum around the country like this without his old man's money."  
  
"I…" He shrugged his arms almost desperately. "I brought the van…"  
  
"He could buy fifty without blinking." Her tone was slightly sad, not that Shaggy noticed.  
  
"I know. I just…" He leaned his head back and sighed. "He likes to act like he's so flawless."  
  
"Look, Daph and I recognize your contributions to this group, even if he doesn't."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Sure." She grinned, though the mirth did not quite reach her eyes. "Unlike you and Fred, we talk before we turn in every night."  
  
"Oh." He smiled his usual, full, idiot's smile. "Well, I don't need to talk to him when I got my best pal to shoot the breeze with. Right, Scoob?"  
  
"Rmm-hmm." Scooby replied, not even looking up. He wavered a bit where he stood, and finally laid down on the cold, stone ground.  
  
"Hey, Scoob, you doing okay?" Shaggy knelt next to him and began to scratch him behind the ears. "You're not lookin' too hot. Maybe we should, like, get you to a vet tomorrow morning…"  
  
Suddenly, the sound of sirens began to echo down the cave. Everyone looked in the direction of the far-off entrance, and in a few minutes a Sheriff was visible, a pair of shotgun-toting deputies flanking him. He looked right at the masked ghost and smiled.  
  
"Nice job, you kids." He said, walking over the pile of coal. "Looks like you've saved the mine."  
  
"We do our best, Sheriff." Freddy replied, beaming and taking a spot right next to the coal pile.  
  
"So, who was he?"  
  
"Well," Velma said, stepping forward, "At first we suspected Old Man Jenkins, Grand Dragon of the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan."  
  
"Yeah, he was pretty upset that, like, a Jewish man was buying the land around here as it was." Shaggy added. "And the fact that it's a Nazi Ninja Ghost…"  
  
"Of course, we realized he had an airtight alibi, since he was sighted at a cross burning the same time the Ghost was chasing us." Freddy replied. "So that was him out."  
  
"Then we thought of Anna Simms, the other person who wanted the land but was beaten out by Mister Marsh's bid." Daphne said. "We figured she could want to scare off not only Marsh, but anyone else who might come along with more money than her. Then he could get the land even cheaper than before."  
  
"That didn't pan out, though." Velma said. "Simms ended up buying another plot of land only a mile down the road, and she ended up being so much happier with it that he was glad that Marsh got this one."  
  
"Then we began to suspect Marsh himself." Freddy said, picking up the conversation. "We were thinking maybe HE was trying to drive the price of the land down."  
  
"But then we realized he had already paid, and never could have gotten his money back." Velma chirped.  
  
"We also realized that, since Freddy came up with the theory, it had to be moronic." Shaggy added.  
  
"Watch it, stoner." Freddy hissed.  
  
"Screw you, pretty boy."  
  
"Put the testosterone away you two." Daphne whispered to the both of them.  
  
"Alright, alright!" The Sheriff said, obviously exasperated. Of course, this was only due to the suspects; he had heard none of the quiet insults. "So if it wasn't Jenkins, Simms, or Marsh, then who was it?!"  
  
"Why," Velma said, stepping forward and grabbing the top of the Nazi Ninja's mask, "It's none other than…"  
  
She pulled, revealing the stern, unhappy face of a middle-aged man.  
  
"Mayor Marty Wilkins!" Everyone hollered as a group.  
  
"That's right!" Velma said. "Mayor Wilkins was upset that tourism here in Nachtberg was falling, so he decided to "scare up" some interest in the town by creating the Nazi Ninja ghost!"  
  
Everyone laughed at the horrible pun. Everyone, that was, except the Mayor and Scooby, the latter of which was half conscious on the ground, growling quietly at nothing.  
  
"And I would have gotten away with it, too!" The disgruntled Mayor hollered, trying to get out of the rocky prison. "If it weren't for you meddling kids and that dumb dog!"  
  
"Well that's what you get when you mess with Mysteries, Inc!" Shaggy said, smiling broadly. "AND when you mess with…"  
  
There was a long pause before everyone realized something was wrong. They all turned and saw Scooby lying there, his eyes half-lidded. He coughed out a mouthful of blood, and Shaggy ran over to him.  
  
"Scooby? Scooby Doo, are you alright?!" Shaggy looked desperately towards the Sheriff. "Get help!"  
  
******  
  
At first, it was good news. As the Nazi Ninja, Mayor Wilkins had had a pair of Dobermans under his command. Scooby had gotten into a fight with one, and received a bit of a bite during it. They had known this, of course, but they had been unaware of how bad the wound really was. So, at first, it just looked like Scooby was worn out from blood loss.  
  
But then animal control brought in Wilkins's Dobermans, and they made the rather upsetting discovery that they were rabid. A quick test proved that Scooby Doo was already infected, and beyond the help of the vet.  
  
Velma burst out of the office on that news, tears streaming down her face. She found a spot under a particularly large tree near the small animal hospital and just looked at the sky, not trying to fight her tears. She had no idea what anyone else did. She just sat there for hours, watching the sunset and then studying the stars as they came out. Nachtberg was a real hick town, with so little lighting that most of the sky was visible. She tried to name as many as she could, but found her memory failing her.  
  
Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of a trash can falling over. She turned, expecting to find a raccoon among the cans next to the vet's place. Instead she found Shaggy there, a half-empty forty in his grip. His leg was still in midair from having kicked the can over. She watched as his foot hit the ground and he leaned back, sucking down half of the remaining half in a few, large gulps.  
  
"Shaggy?" Velma whispered to the air, slowly getting to her feet. She moved as if within a dream, moving towards him as he stumbled about. "Shaggy?"  
  
As she approached, he finished off the last of the malt liquor. He held the bottle away from his face and stared at it for a long time. Then he slowly angled his gaze towards the heavens. Velma stopped short as a low, guttural scream escaped his lips. It was rage and sadness combined, and it made Velma's tears flow anew. She watched as Shaggy hurled the bottle at the sky, only to have it land right next to him, not even shattering on the soft, grassy ground.  
  
"You BASTARD!" He screamed, waving his fists in the air. "You cold-hearted MOTHERFUCKER! I…I HATE YOU! I hate…hate you so…hate you so much…"  
  
He suddenly collapsed to his knees on the grass. Then he doubled over and began vomiting onto the ground. He fell forward, holding himself up with his hands as he continued to puke. Shuddering, Velma slowly moved back to her tree, where she looked out from behind it.  
  
"Damn you!" Shaggy wheezed between a bout of heaving. "Fuck y…"  
  
He was cut off by another surge of vomit. Velma turned away, pressing her back to the three. She made a tight fist and bit her hand to keep herself quiet. But as Shaggy continued to moan, curse, and puke, she had to bite deeper and deeper, until she actually broke the flesh. Then her tears mingled with her blood and began to drip off her hand.  
  
******  
  
The next morning found the group standing near the tree Velma had spent much of the day before next to. There were also a few members of animal control and the Sheriff. Scooby was tied to the tree, fighting to break the rope, desperately trying to bark through his muzzle. His eyes were wide and wild, containing no intelligence or warmth. Foam dripped from the edges of his closed mouth.  
  
Shaggy stood nearest to his friend, his eyes bloodshot and his skin pale. His face was dark. In his right hand he held one of the Sheriff's large, gray revolvers. The arm was limp, and he leaned to that side, making the gun looked even heavier than it really was.  
  
"Are you sure you want to do this, Mister Rogers?" The Sheriff asked, his voice nearly whisper.  
  
"Yeah." Shaggy replied, hefting his right side up a bit.  
  
"We can just use gas…"  
  
"NO!" His voice was loud and vehement. But he calmed again, his voice going almost dead. "No. He's my friend. He deserves to have a friend do it."  
  
"Alright. Well, if you want him to feel as little pain as possible…"  
  
"The base of the skull, I know."  
  
He stepped forward, then, slowly lifting the gun. Scooby was too busy trying to move forward to see him coming up from behind. Velma crossed her arms and shuddered, but did not look away. Freddy looked bored. Daphne found a spot in her sleeve to try and deal with.  
  
Shaggy's arm got to the right point. It was amazingly steady, even though his other arm was twitching and shaking madly. His eyes were wide. He swallowed hard. Still, his right arm did not waver. His index finger tensed up, and slowly put pressure on the trigger.  
  
The blast echoed through the air, covering the dog's final gasp and whimper. The bullet passed through the back of his head and out of the bottom of his jaw, splattering blood and matter all over the grass. His entire body tensed for a split-second before going limp and falling sideways.  
  
Daphne cried, while Fred coughed to cover up his own reaction. Velma just went numb, unable to look away from the blood spreading out over the grass.  
  
Shaggy stood for a long time in silence, his body unmoving. He did not even waver where he stood. Then, suddenly, he dropped the gun and collapsed to his knees. He stayed that way for a long time, tears streaming down his cheeks.  
  
Then he threw his head forward and screamed. He said nothing coherent; he merely let out a long, loud, pained scream. Then another, and another. Velma finally clamped her hands over her ears in a desperate attempt to block him out.  
  
******  
  
That evening, they were getting ready to go. The Mystery Machine was parked outside of the small inn the team had been spending their nights at, and their few bags were already loaded in the van. Freddy was in the driver's seat, anxious to be on his way. Daphne was just leaning against the side of the van, her eyes glazed over. Velma was twisting Scooby's collar around in her hands, looking around.  
  
"Where IS he?" She demanded of the air.  
  
"Probably got arrested with his stash." Fred called from his seat. "I say we ditch him, that'll teach him a…"  
  
"Freddy, shut the FUCK up." Daphne snapped, suddenly coming back to reality.  
  
"Who the HELL do you think you are, woman, telling me to…"  
  
"Freddy, she's right, shut up." Velma replied, her voice calm.  
  
"Christ, trust the broads to stick together." Fred grumbled, and Velma had to resist the urge to go find her mace.  
  
"Damn, did anyone ever tell you that you're, like, one misogynist bastard?" Came the familiar voice of Shaggy, immediately cheering up Velma.  
  
But when she turned to see him, she got a bit of a shock. His familiar goatee was gone, and his hair had been cut short. His green shirt and red slacks had been exchanged for a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a black windbreaker.  
  
"Jinkies!" Velma said. "Is that you, Shaggy?"  
  
"Norville." He replied, his voice still scratchy from his screaming earlier in the day. "Norville Rogers."  
  
"What?" She frowned. "But you've never used…"  
  
"Well it's about time I start. Can't go around with a kid's nickname forever, can I? I mean, hell, I'm going to be thirty soon. About time I grow up."  
  
"It is?"  
  
"Yeah." He moved over to the driver's side door and yanked it open. Freddy looked confused, but he just glared back. "Move over. It's my van, I want to drive for once."  
  
"What, you think because you've changed shirts I'm going to…"  
  
"MOVE YOUR PANSY ASS, FRAT BOY!" Rogers screamed.  
  
"Okay, okay, Jesus Christ, calm the fuck down." Freddy replied, trying to hide how nervous he truly was and doing quite a bad job of it. He shifted over in the front bench of the van, letting Rogers slip in behind the wheel.  
  
When the girls went to get in, Freddy realized that would put him right next to Rogers again, so he got out and let them take the middle. Velma ended up next to the driver's spot, and she studied her friend for another, long moment, until he noticed her staring at him.  
  
"Sh…Norville…" She hesitated, then looked away.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I…" She held up the collar. "I saved this for you. The vet said it would be fine. Nothing wrong with it or anything."  
  
"Oh." For a moment, his eyes softened, and his idiot's grin tried to move back into place. But, in the end, all he managed was a small smile. "Thanks."  
  
"Anytime, Norville."  
  
She sighed, and looked forward as the van began to move.  
  
************  
  
–Three Months Later–  
  
"Come on!" Rogers shouted, running down a corridor in the creaky, deserted mansion. "I see the fucker!"  
  
Freddy, Daphne, and Velma struggled to keep up with him as he bolted down the moldy hallways, wielding a large table leg as a club. They had been there some fifteen minutes before the "ghost" attacked. The others had frozen. Rogers had merely broken his weapon away from a nearby piece of furniture and began running after it.  
  
There was a smash and a yell from around a nearby corner, and Velma watched as Rogers pulled ahead even faster. He rounded the corner, and the sound of ripping cloth made its way to Velma's ears. She heard thudding and screaming a moment later, and she picked up the pace.  
  
When she got around the corner, she stopped short, horror filling her eyes.  
  
There was the ghost, his mask torn off. He was next to a small end table; he had most likely smashed into it and fallen, causing the crash that they had heard. She wasn't even sure who it was as the ghost, having not had enough time to compile clues and suspects. His jaw hung loose, however, from where Rogers had smashed him across the face with the table leg. He was lifting it again, ready to hit.  
  
"For Christ's sake, Shaggy!" She screamed, running forward and getting a solid grip on the leg. She tore it from his hand, thinking that would end it.  
  
Instead, he balled his hand into a fist and smashed the guy in the face again. Daphne, who had arrived by this point, let out a horrified gasp. The ghost fell backwards, unconscious. Rogers spun to face Velma, his expression grim.  
  
"I wasn't going to kill him or anything." He said, his voice cold. He pulled a gray flask from a pocket and unscrewed the cap. He took a pull from it, and held it out to Velma. "Want a swig?"  
  
"N-no…"  
  
"Didn't think so." He shrugged as he screwed the cap back into place. "Hey, Frat Boy! Get out that cell, let the Sheriff know we've already got the fucker."  
  
"Yeah, I'm on it." Freddy replied, his voice dull. Velma noticed that he had lost a great deal of verve over the past few months. He never smiled, anymore, he never seemed to have any energy. He had set up a small sleeping bag in the back of the van and usually slept when they were on the road. He stayed up at night while the others slept, doing God-knows-what.  
  
Of course, that really didn't bother her. It was nice to see Freddy having been taken down so far so very fast. Daphne could just be herself, finally, though she still kept it quiet. Even still, Velma felt compelled to talk to him, though she could not say where this insane compunction came from.  
  
"What's up, Fred?" She asked, as he slipped his phone into his pocket.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"You don't look well." She shrugged. "You haven't for a while."  
  
"Well…I…" He paused and sighed. "This isn't fun, anymore. We show up, and within an hour we've usually got the guy. And Shaggy…Norville…whatever…he scares me. I think he wants to hurt me. I'm just waiting for him to snap."  
  
"He already did."  
  
"Well I'm worried he'll snap further. Look what he did to that guy. We'll be lucky if the Sheriff doesn't try to take him in on assault charges."  
  
"So we lie." Came the voice of Rogers from behind them. They turned to see him lighting a cigarette with a brass Zippo. He glanced up as the tip burned. "Who're they going to believe? It's us, one of the more celebrated private investigation agencies in the country, versus a lunatic who dresses as a ghost as part of some idiotic scam. We've saved cities, towns, and individuals tons of money from people like him. Our word is good."  
  
"What?!" Velma said, horrified. "Norville, we can't…"  
  
"We can do what we want." He closed his eyes for a moment, and took a long drag off the cigarette. He expelled the smoke through his nose, and then his eyes snapped open, already looking towards Freddy. "And one little thing, Frat Boy: don't you dare go bitching about whether or not this is 'fun,' okay? Why isn't it fun? Because we get our job done QUICKLY and EFFICIENTLY now? Because you don't get to wave your cock around and give orders every thirty seconds? Tough shit. Learn to deal with it, or get the fuck out of the group."  
  
"But without me there IS no group."  
  
"No, without you there's no MONEY. The group can still exist just fine. Oh, things'll be tougher, but we'll be able to get by." Rogers let a wicked smile cross his lips as Freddy began to look more and more disillusioned. "That's right, Frat Boy. You serve no purpose anymore. You're just a lump of useless flesh hanging off the sides of better people."  
  
"I…I…" He sniffed a bit.  
  
"What the fuck?" Rogers leaned forward, the cigarette dangling from his lips coming very close to hitting Freddy's chin. "Are you CRYING? Oh my fucking God, that is PATHETIC! Just…just get out of my sight, you WORTHLESS piece of slime."  
  
"You…I…" A tear actually trickled down Freddy's cheek. "I QUIT!"  
  
"Oh, what a devastating loss." Rogers said, laying on the sarcasm thick.  
  
"I mean it!" He turned, and began to storm off. "You won't have my money to mooch off of any more, you lousy ingrates!"  
  
"Watch me give a flying fuck!" Shaggy called. He looked at Velma and sighed. "God, what a pussy."  
  
"I don't believe you just did that." Velma said.  
  
"I've been wanting to for years." He leaned against the wall and took another drag off his cigarette. "You know you've wanted to. We all have!"  
  
"True enough." Daphne said, her arms crossed and her head hung. "But what do we do now?"  
  
"We start charging people for our services." Shaggy flicked his spent cigarette away. "And we start dealing with more cases than just this ghost shit. We start dealing with REAL criminals, too. Maybe do some bail bondsman work on the side…"  
  
"Sha…Norville, couldn't that get dangerous?" Daphne looked up, her eyes betraying her fear.  
  
"Probably. We'll need to get a few guns, probably, but…"  
  
"No." She shuddered, and looked at the floor again. "No, I refuse to use one of those things. This wasn't supposed to be dangerous. This…we were just…"  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"I quit, too."  
  
"But…but you hated Frat Boy, too."  
  
"More than you could know." She hugged her arms around herself. "And this isn't out of sympathy for him or anything. I mean, fuck him. I hate him…but…Christ…"  
  
She began to weep, leaving Rogers just looking confused. He extended a hand, but let it drop. He sighed and leaned against a wall, unable to understand what was going on. Velma took one of her hands, and Daphne embraced her, crying.  
  
"I should go." Rogers said. "I'll leave the van. You guys…consider it a gift."  
  
"Norville…" Velma said, pulling away from Daphne for a moment.  
  
"No." He turned, and gently took her by the shoulders before she could get too close. "I have to go, V. I'm ruining this. Find Frat Boy. Tell him I'm gone, I'm sure he'll come back with his damn money."  
  
"I don't want it. Neither does Daph."  
  
"Well…find SOMETHING, then. Something that's not me, or Frat Boy, or this fucked-up business we've been in way too long now. Shit, how long have we been at this?"  
  
"Since we graduated from college."  
  
"Right. In other words, it's been eight years. That's only two years shy of a decade. A decade of the same van, the same company, practically the same clothes and haircuts. Save you, we're all at least thirty, and your birthday is in two months. We've come a hell of a long way from Massachusetts…and we've hardly moved at all. Let's face it, V, it's time to grow up."  
  
"But…"  
  
"No. None of that." He released her and turned around. "Goodbye, Velma, Daphne. Do something with your lives."  
  
Velma watched him go in silence. She listened to his footsteps retreat down the steps, and heard the main door creak open. She heard him speak quietly to someone, and then she heard a group of people coming up the stairs. But while the Sheriff and some deputies came, Rogers did not.  
  
"Where is he?" The Sheriff asked.  
  
"Around the corner." Velma replied, the disappointment evident in her tone.  
  
"Who was he?"  
  
"No idea." Daphne replied, now standing next to Velma. "We caught him so fast, we didn't have a chance to figure out who he was or what his motivations may have been."  
  
"Well, you caught him, and that's all that matters."  
  
"I'll show you to him, Sheriff." Daphne shoved Velma forward. "Velma here needs to pass an important message on to Mister Rogers."  
  
"Huh?" Velma asked, confused.  
  
"Just go, dummy."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
She ran past the Sheriff and his men, down the stairs, and out the front door. She didn't see Rogers anywhere, but assumed he had headed for the inn. So she ran for it, not bothering to glance at the small alley between the decrepit mansion and the garage next to it.  
  
Rogers looked at her leave from there, and sighed.  
  
"Sorry, V." He said. "But I'm ending this my way."  
  
To be continued… 


End file.
